When Reality Fades
by Daring Duo
Summary: This is what happens when the dreams are over and reality wants attention. A tag to Doppelganger.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **We don't own them, have rights to them, or make money off them. We just love them.

**Summary: **This is what happens when the dreams are over and reality wants attention. A tag to Doppelganger.

**WHEN REALITY FADES...part one**

No one had been sleeping well after the crystal entity incident that had caused bad dreams and the death of Heightmeyer. Ronon seemed to rally best of all and was a strong presence for everyone else. Teyla was feeling the loss of Kate, who had been a good friend to her. Too much loss, after losing Elizabeth just months ago as well and almost losing Ronon to his old friends.

John was feeling the weight of it all as well, but trying to remain positive for his team and the others on Atlantis. But keeping upbeat was hard to do when he felt so damn tired. And if that wasn't bad enough, his body was giving him hell. Three days had passed since they had returned the crystals and suddenly John felt like he'd been hit by a tank.

Getting out of bed had taken twenty minutes, and had only been attempted after sending Ronon off to jog alone. John had practically crawled to the shower and then he had stared at himself in disbelief. His body was covered in bruises and every part of him ached. Which included his head. He had the grandmother of all headaches going on, to the point where he felt nauseous. Once he'd managed to finish showering, John had ended up sitting down to dry off. By the time he'd pulled on underwear, sweat pants and a t-shirt he'd ended up on his knees puking into the toilet.

He was still in the bathroom when Rodney found him.

"I thought we were meeting for breakfast?" Rodney blurted out in greeting, only to fall back when his nose caught the stench in the bathroom. "You're sick!" He made it sound like an accusation.

"Go away." John really didn't want to deal with anyone right now. He wanted to be left alone to wallow in his pain and misery.

But Rodney had braved coming in and now he was staring down at John with concern sharply etched in his features. "What's wrong with you?"

John really didn't know so he figured he wasn't lying when he guessed with, "Something I ate didn't agree with me." It would at least explain the puking. Although he hadn't eaten anything since lunch the day before. Not that he wanted to even think about food right now.

"What did you eat? We didn't eat the same thing, did we?" Rodney looked panicked now, one hand moving to rub his stomach.

"Rodney...go away." John was about ready to beg him to leave.

Looking uncertain, Rodney back away. "Are you sure you're okay? I could call Keller."

John almost shook his head and thought better of it. "I'm fine. Or I will be after a nap. Just go away and I'll see you later."

"Okay. If you're sure." But Rodney was already out the door as he spoke. "Remember you said you'd help me with some calculations in my lab later!" he called over his shoulder. Then there was the whooshing sound of the door closing. Then blessed silence.

For a long time John just sat there, waiting for the nausea to pass. Thankfully, it did. Swallowing back a moan, John managed to get to his feet and over to the sink. He avoided his reflection, focusing instead on brushing the bad taste out of his mouth. Then he stumbled his way to his bed and crawled in. He felt like he'd spent the day sparring with Ronon, only getting his ass kicked by the Satedan had never felt this bad.

When the aches wouldn't ease up and nearly half an hour had ticked away, John got up again and rummaged in his sock drawer for his stash of Aleve. He took a double dose then headed for the shower. Maybe between the meds and the heat of the water he'd feel better. Maybe he was just stiff for some reason and if he got himself in motion he'd feel better.

The shower did seem to help a little, although by the time he was dressed in BDU's and a long-sleeved black shirt with a warm fleece pullover, John was feeling nauseous again. He sat down, waiting for it to pass, then he collected his radio, laced on his boots, strapped on his gun and then he was out the door.

It wasn't until he was deciding where to go first that he remembered he had a meeting with Carter. John had no clue what she wanted to talk about. She'd made it clear it was a private meeting, just them, so he'd made it a point not to think about it so he wouldn't drive himself nuts wondering what she wanted to talk about.

Which meant he didn't have much time. Since he still felt a bit nauseous, John decided to make a quick trip to the messhall. Maybe having some toast would settle his stomach. So he headed for the nearest transporter, trying hard not to wince as each step he took seemed to jar some muscle or joint or tender spot on his aching body.

**THE END...of part one**


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: **Thank you for reading and reviewing – you guys feed our need. We're happy to bring a little Shep-whumping for your reading pleasure and hope you enjoy the ride.

**WHEN REALITY FADES...part two**

Two steps into the mess hall, the strong odor of food almost caused John to turn around and leave. His stomach did a rather uncomfortable lurch that had him clenching his jaw to keep from puking on the floor. Talk about an all around appetite killer. He paused a few beats, swallowing several times until he felt he was in control and then headed for the counter, carefully breathing through his mouth.

After snagging two pieces of toast and a cup of coffee, John headed quickly for the balcony. The fresh air was the only thing that saved him from an embarrassing moment and he gulped it in eagerly. As he set his tray on the table near the railing, he realized he'd broken out in a sweat while he had been in the mess hall. The breeze felt good against his damp skin, but he was most grateful for the absence of greasy food odors. His stomach settled a bit, giving him enough nerve to try a small bite of his toast. Now if his head would just stop feeling like someone had shoved an ice pick in the back of his skull.

"Hey, Sheppard, feeling better?"

John smelled the food from the heavy-laden tray even before he saw Ronon. He quickly switched over to breathing through his mouth again while willing his stomach to calm down. "Hey Ronon. Kind of late for you to be eating." He'd made it to the mess hall long after most everyone else should have eaten and so hadn't expected to see anyone.

Ronon sat down heavily in the seat across from him and picked up his fork. "I ran a little longer today."

John looked at the former runner, noting the exhaustion in his face. "Hoping you'll be tired enough to sleep better tonight."

Ronon stopped chewing for a second to stare at John. After a moment he resumed and then swallowed. "That obvious?"

John sighed and broke a small piece off the corner of his toast. "Not so much. I just thought you looked a little tired and I'm pretty sure none of us has had a decent night's sleep since the crystal thing."

Ronon grunted, poking at his food before looking back up at John. "What happened to you?"

John put his food down and frowned slightly. "What do you mean?" He was trying to figure out if there was anything he hadn't told the others about his battle with his other self.

Ronon pointed to John's face with his fork. "Your face is all bruised and we haven't sparred in days. None of us has been out of Atlantis. Did you and Teyla have a go at it?"

John took in a deep breath and let it out as a long sigh. "No, I . . . I'm not sure. I felt like crap most of yesterday and worse last night. Thought I might be getting the flu or something because I was all achy and had this killer headache. Then today I get up looking like someone's punching bag. I think it's just a delayed reaction from my proverbial battle with evil."

Ronon eyed him as he finished chewing. "You should see Keller."

"Ronon, I'm bruised. What's she going to do, kiss all my boo boos?"

Ronon raised his eyebrows and then grinned. "She might like that. I think she was checking you out the other night when you walked me to the infirmary."

John winced and rolled his lip in for a second. "She was trying to figure out if she should be afraid of me or not because of her creepy dream. That does _not_ constitute checking me out."

Ronon continued to grin. "I told her I didn't think you were seeing anyone."

John grimaced and rubbed his temple. "Ronon . . . please don't help me out any more. I can handle my own love life."

"And what love life would that be?" asked Teyla as she sat down beside Ronon with an apple and a container of yogurt.

Ronon chuckled and looked from Teyla back to John. "Yeah, Sheppard, what love life would that be?"

John furrowed his brow at the two of them for several seconds. "My love life, or serious lack of one, is not open to discussion, thank you very much. And I have a meeting."

"John, are you not going to eat your breakfast?"

Looking down, he noted how his toast had been shredded into several small pieces. He thought he'd managed about two bites before he began his shred-fest. "Not very hungry today," he said as he stood up. The room suddenly tilted violently to one side. John could feel himself listing seriously to the right, but couldn't seem to stop the motion. Then strong hands grabbed hold of his arm and he felt his shoulder crash into something soft, but sturdy.

"Sheppard?"

John squeezed his eyes shut for a few moments and then opened them. The room swayed a little before settling down to remain still. Teyla stood across from him, wide-eyed with worry. He found himself leaning against Ronon, who had a firm grip on his arm. John pulled away and stood upright on his own, although Ronon stayed where he was and looked ready to catch him again if necessary.

"Sorry . . . guess I stood up too fast. I'm okay now."

Ronon was frowning at him with his "not buying it" expression. "I'll walk you to the infirmary."

"I'm not going to the infirmary," John said, pushing his chair up with a little more force than he had intended. "I have a meeting with Colonel Carter."

Teyla shook her head once, her eyes dark with concern. "John, you almost passed out. You need to let Dr. Keller look at you. You look as though you have been in a fight. Perhaps you are injured."

"Look, I haven't been in any fight and I'm fine, just a little bruised. I haven't been sleeping well, like everyone else that had anything to do with that crystal, and I'm tired, that's all. Now, if you'll excuse me, Colonel Carter is waiting."

John strolled away, leaving them standing there watching his back. He wasn't really angry at them, he was just annoyed at feeling so off. And he didn't really even know why or how. The entity had thrown him all over the gateroom in his dream and he'd felt like he was being beaten to death at the time. It had hurt. It had felt real, like he really did slam his head against the wall and really did get punched and kicked until he could barely draw a breath. But that had just been in his head. How could it manifest in real injuries?

Pausing, John placed his hand against the wall, leaning on it for support against the wave of dizziness. His stomach churned, making him wonder if he was going to puke or pass out first. His head throbbed relentlessly, pulling his mind away from the way the rest of his body ached. After a moment his stomach settled again and the hallway stopped feeling like a tilt-a-whirl. John straightened and let out a slow breath before resuming his trip to Colonel Carter's office. He hoped the meeting was short, because he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold himself together.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: **Thanks again for all the support. Happy New Year to those of you sitting at home like me, as well as to the party animals that won't see this until tomorrow. Hope everyone has a wonderful 2008!

**WHEN REALITY FADES...part 3**

John managed to make it to the meeting in Weir's office...no, scratch that, in Carter's office, almost on time. Almost. He ended up having to spend a few minutes on another balcony, letting the fresh air dispel his lingering nausea. He rather expected Carter to call him on his lateness, but instead she looked up from the laptop on her desk and simply stared at him for a long moment, her gaze narrowed.

"Sorry I'm late," John offered.

"No big deal," Carter replied, waving John over to the chair across from her. She watched him sit, which was hard to do without wincing, then asked, "Are you all right, John?"

He forced a grin and said, "Sure. I'm fine. You?" He was a master at deflecting attention off himself. He'd been doing it since grade school.

Carter rose from her chair and moved around the desk to study him. "You don't look fine. You look white as a ghost and you have bruising on your face. What happened?"

He seriously considered lying to her, but he figured if he didn't come clean he'd run the risk of Ronon or Teyla saying something to her. Because he knew the moment he left them, Ronon would have told Teyla about him suddenly becoming bruised from his dream fighting. So he sucked it up and admitted, "I'm a bit sore, but I'll be fine."

"Sore?" Carter looked concerned. "Were you in a fight? What happened?"

"Old fight," John replied, raising a hand to run through his hair and regretting it when the motion pulled on about a dozen sore spots. "Look, I don't understand how it happened, but I seem to be feeling the effects of my dream fight with my evil self. I'm just sore and a bit bruised, I'll be fine."

But Carter was shaking her head. "You don't look fine. I want you in the infirmary so Dr. Keller can do a work up. To be frank, John...you look like hell."

It was on the tip of his tongue to reply with some sarcastic comeback, but this was Carter, not Elizabeth, and he didn't know her well enough to go there. So instead he locked eyes with her and figured some flat out begging was in order. "I don't need to see Keller. Okay? I'm fine. I just need some sleep. We all do." Whoops, he hadn't really meant to make that confession.

"Keller can help with that too," Carter interjected, her tone as firm as her stance. "I know you and your team aren't sleeping well. Dr. Keller has admitted she's not sleeping well either. But I also know that Teyla and Rodney have asked for sleeping pills and that even Ronon has agreed to take something if he's not sleeping better by the end of this week. It's okay to need help sometimes, John."

"I know that." He did know that, he just didn't appreciate hearing it from Carter. "You called me in for a meeting. Is there something wrong?" He figured it wouldn't hurt to try distracting her again.

Carter wasn't about to be distracted though. "I wanted to talk to you about your position here as well as how you're doing since the crystal incident. But the first issue can wait and I can see how you're doing in regards to the second. So I'll walk you to the infirmary, Colonel."

The use of his title was telling and John knew he wasn't getting out of this. So he got up, biting back a moan, and walked to the door. Once there, however, he turned to ask, "What about my position here? Do you have a problem with my work?"

"Not at all." Carter was quick to assure him of that. "In a nutshell I wanted to let you know that I'm officially naming you the military head of Atlantis. Lines got a bit blurred when I first took command because of my own military background. But I cleared it with General O'Neill and with General Landry. Your position here is the same as it always was and you even have the right to call me on military decisions."

"Cool!" It was out before he could stop it and John was glad when Carter grinned at him. However, he wasn't so glad when his knees buckled and the only thing that kept him upright was Carter grabbing him by the waist. Which was effective in supporting him, but not so good when it came to pressing on his tender ribs. He couldn't swallow back the moan this time and he realized he was shaking.

Carter was shouting orders at Chuck. "Call for a med team and a gurney!" she instructed.

John was about to argue with her when the claxons went off and the gate started dialing. He managed to find his balance and pull away from Carter, instinct overruling weakness. He strode over to Chuck's console. "I thought we didn't have a team out."

"We don't," Chuck replied.

"Then what the hell is happening?" John asked, just as Carter joined him. He gave her a sheepish look and was about to apologize for usurping her position when she waved a hand at him.

Turning to the console she stared at it, then the gate, which shut down as quickly as it had started to dial up. Before anyone could react, Carter's radio beeped. She tapped it. "Carter, go."

There was a moment of silence then McKay's angry voice. "Who's been touching things in the control room?" he demanded.

"What's going on, Rodney?" Carter countered.

"Good question!" he snapped. Another moment of silence, a bit of bickering with someone who sounded like Radek, then Rodney was back. "I'm seeing fluctuations in power grid 3. Radek is going to go check it out. We'll report back." With that Rodney clicked off.

John felt relief wash over him. Chances were it was something scientific that Rodney and Radek could handle. He really wasn't feeling up to dealing with any more physical threats to Atlantis by one of their enemies. In fact, he was going to ask Carter if he could simply go to his room and take a nap. John was positive he would feel better after some rest and he was feeling tired enough to sleep for a week, without resorting to sleeping pills.

But even as he opened his mouth, Keller appeared below, med team and gurney in tow. She climbed the steps to meet them. "Where's the medical emergency?"

Carter pointed to John before he could stop her. "Colonel Sheppard isn't feeling well."

"I can see that." Keller was eyeing him with concern, one hand lifting to ghost a finger over his cheekbone. "Who hit you?"

"I did." It was out before he could stop it. Then he was stepping away from Keller. He really did not want to go to the infirmary. "I'm fine, just a bit sore," John babbled. "I just need some sleep and I'll be ship shape." Sadly, his body wouldn't back up his words and he stumbled as one knee buckled under the pressure of his weight on sore bones and muscles.

As if appearing out of nowhere, Ronon was there to catch him.

John considered thanking him, only everything started to fade to gray.

**THE END...of part 3**

Top of Form


	4. Chapter 4

**WHEN REALITY FADES...part 4**

"Hey, Keller, I think he's waking up!"

Rodney's loud voice brought John to consciousness before he had even been aware the process was beginning. "I am _now_," he whispered bitterly, wincing at the throbbing in his head that radiated down into his neck. He felt a hand close gently over his and he twitched his eyelids in an attempt to open them. When he was finally successful, he was rewarded by the sight of Teyla's smiling face.

"I am glad that you are awake now. We were getting worried."

Blinking a few times, John tried to clear his head and remember why he was here. Oh yeah, passed out in the control room in front of Carter. Nice way to impress the new boss. "How long have I been here?"

"A little over four hours, Colonel," answered Keller, coming up to the opposite side of the bed from Teyla. John glanced around the room and found Ronon standing a few feet down from Teyla, near the end of the bed, his large arms crossed. Colonel Carter had walked up with Dr. Keller and was now standing near Ronon.

"How do you feel, Colonel?" asked Carter.

John inventoried his body, trying to determine how he did feel. "Headache . . . kind of sore." Sore as in his entire body ached with one all-encompassing pain. He wondered if this was what it felt like to get hit by a car. He shifted slightly and it pulled, leading him to notice the IV and then the myriad of equipment he was attached to. Along with the familiar clip on his finger were wires and electrodes attached to his chest and temples and beeping monitors everywhere he looked. "Uh, Doc, is there something I should know about?"

Keller had just pulled her penlight from her pocked and ignored his question for a moment while she flashed it first in his right eye, then his left. "Pupil reactions are back to normal. That's good." She dropped the light back in her pocket and looked at Sheppard. "This is all precautionary, since we don't really know what we're dealing with. You should have come to me the minute this began happening."

John sighed and rubbed the side of his face, knowing he was in trouble. "I didn't realize what it was at first. It kind of freaked me out that I could look and feel so beat up without being in a fight or sparring with Ronon. On the way to the mess hall, I realized the only thing I'd done that could explain any of this was the way the crystal entity beat the crap out of me, and that didn't really make sense. How can a fight in your dreams make you all bruised like this?"

Frowning, Keller put her hands on her hips. "It did a lot more than that. You're showing signs of a pretty nasty concussion and you have three cracked ribs. Some of that bruising is deep in the muscle and is going to be painful for quite a while. When Dr. McKay was here earlier, he said you vomited earlier this morning."

John twitched one side of his mouth up a little in a faint, jerking half-smile. "Uh, yeah, about that . . . at the time, I thought maybe it was something I ate. I was still trying to figure out what was going on. Speaking of which, what the heck is going on?"

"We think as the entity gained more experience, it escalated its power and the effects it was having on people," explained Carter. "It visited several people before reaching the point where it killed Kate."

John winced, remembering how the being he'd brought back from the crystal had ended up killing the psychiatrist. He could hear the voice of his other self, taunting him about being responsible. The bad thing was, he could also still remember his friends telling him the same thing, reminding him of his guilt. The old, familiar pressure began to squeeze his chest and coil his stomach.

"Colonel Sheppard?" It was the worry and high pitch to Dr. Keller's voice that brought John back to the present. He snapped his head around to look at the physician. "What?"

Keller relaxed a little. "You drifted off for a second." Looking around, he noticed the worried looks on all their faces and realized the monitor was beeping a little too quickly. John sighed and swallowed.

"Oh, sorry. Just thinking about something."

"It wasn't your fault, John," said Carter firmly. "None of this was. You had no way to know what the crystal would do. There was no reason to think it anything but an energy anomaly."

Closing his eyes momentarily, John could see their accusing faces, branded in his head from a dream that seemed so real at the time. His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat as his pulse escalated again. He moaned slightly with the effort of keeping his stomach contents in place as he felt the spasmodic contractions in his gut kick in again.

"Here, Colonel," said Keller. Her hand gently supported his back when he opened his eyes and jerked forward slightly, emptying his stomach into the waiting metal dish before him. The effort caused his vision to white out and he drifted a few moments before opening his eyes to find Keller shooing everyone out while a nurse wiped his face with a damp cloth.

Ronon gave one last look over his shoulder before disappearing from view and then Keller was back, checking his pulse and pressure again.

"Sorry . . . Doc . . . didn't see that coming . . . til too late."

Keller smiled and gently squeezed his arm. "No problem, Colonel. Concussions can be like that."

"Is that what's wrong with me? I mean, it's just some after effects of that pounding he gave me, right?" John was so hoping there was nothing more sinister going on.

"As far as we know, yes. You have to remember, though. We don't have any experiences to look back on and get an idea what to expect."

"So, how long are you keeping me here?"

Smiling, Keller crosser her arms and looked sternly down at John. "You in a hurry to go somewhere?"

John gave her his best lop-sided grin. "I have no idea what you mean."

Raising her eyebrows, Keller looked unconvinced. "Right. Well, we'll just have to play it by ear. I'm at least keeping you overnight. If the symptoms of the concussion let up by tomorrow and there are no more signs of complications, I might let you return to your quarters tomorrow afternoon or evening."

Pushing his head back further into the pillow, John realized that if he was honest with himself, he didn't feel like leaving right now anyway. He was still nauseated and his head was killing him. He really didn't feel like moving around much. "Okay, sounds good."

Keller tilted her head a bit, as if surprised, but didn't comment on the matter. "How's the head?"

"Hurts," responded John honestly, not particularly in a mood to lie there in pain. "Still kind of feel like I'm about to puke, too."

Nodding, Keller looked down at her watch. "Okay, I can do something about both, actually. Be back in a jiffy." She gave him a brief smile before moving away from the bed to collect the promised medication. John closed his eyes, concentrating on holding it together until she returned.

oOo

"John!"

The colonel sat up in bed and looked around, trying to figure out who had called his name. The infirmary was dark and quiet. All the other beds were empty, which he found odd since he was pretty sure he remembered two of them being occupied. "Hello?"

The silence seemed to fit with the shrouded darkness. He was certain someone had called him, but who? "Dr. Keller?" Still, no one answered. John pulled the covers back and eased himself off the bed, a tingle running up his back when his bare feet hit the cold floor. He steadied himself before walking toward the door to Keller's office. "Doc?"

The office was silent and empty, just like the infirmary. Why would they have left him there alone? Had something happened and he'd slept through it? Suddenly he was worried and he quickly turned and shuffled quietly toward the door. As he walked out into the hallway, he realized no IVs or wires had been attached for him to pull loose and thought thankfully that at least something was going right.

Moving swiftly to the end of the hall, he peered around the corner. Nothing. No one. Quiet darkness filled the hallway before him as it had the infirmary behind him. John was now apprehensive about calling out for someone, so he just quickly moved down the corridor. He stepped around the corner to find . . . himself. He stood wide-eyed, watching a replica of himself lean with his shoulder casually against the wall, smirking at him.

"Took you long enough."

John ran his hand across his eyes, pressing in for a moment and relishing the brief pain it caused. When he opened them, _he_ was still there. "What are you doing here? We threw you out. We loaded you up and took you back to that planet."

Evil John just grinned at him. "Don't sweat it, I'm not really here."

"Then why do I see you?" asked John angrily.

Evil John pushed away from the wall to stand upright. "I'm a remnant, left over from his presence here. You were the first mind and the last. You were the one he imprinted on, the one he connected with. He left a little piece of himself behind . . . me."

This was not real. John just had to keep that in his head. He was safe in the infirmary, dreaming this. He backed up a step and turned to walk the way he came, but had to stop short to keep from running into himself.

Evil John pushed his face up next to John's. "You can't run from this. I know your greatest fear, just like he did. I know what haunts you, what wakes you up at night in a cold sweat. The people you've lost and those you are afraid of losing. The fact that you're a miserable failure, just like all those people said you were."

"No!" John said loudly. "I've done everything I can do. You lose people sometimes." He pushed past his other self and strode determinedly down the hallway. He walked as fast as he could until he reached the door to his quarters, which were blocked by the other John. "Get out of my way."

"Not until I show you something," said Evil John. "Come with me."

John watched his retreating back and decided this was totally creeping him out. At first he had no intention of following himself, but then decided he needed as much information as possible if he was going to get rid of this guy. Following, they ended up on a balcony near Kate's room. John looked around and then narrowed his eyes at the ghost of the entity.

"Why are we here?"

Evil John grinned and pointed toward the railing. "I thought you might like to see what Kate saw." When John looked back at the railing, he saw Kate standing on the edge, hanging on with a white-knuckled grip and terrified out of her mind. He watched himself taunt her, tell her she was going to fall to her death and then explain in horrible detail what would happen to her body on impact.

John wanted to step forward and grab her, to pull her off the railing, but he couldn't move. He couldn't even call out to her. He saw Teyla try to save her, only to watch as he stopped her and Kate fell to her death. Her last thoughts, her last interaction with him had been of him emotionally pushing her to her death. She would not have known it was a dream, that it wasn't him. He'd brought this hideous monstrosity into Atlantis and it had used his form to kill.

John dropped to his knees, his legs unable to support him as he was physically sick with the knowledge of what he'd done, of what he'd been responsible for. He'd killed her as surely as if he had shot her in the head. He could hear the other him laughing as the darkness closed in around him and he welcomed its relief.

TBC

_I know the chapters are short and I'm sorry about that. We wanted to do this and both of us were really busy, so we decided to make short chapters and then shoot it over to the other one to continue. This was a way to make this manageable so we could actually get it written. Thanks a bunch for your feedback. Hopefully I didn't miss any typos this chapter._


	5. Chapter 5

**WHEN REALITY FADES...part 5**

"Colonel Sheppard!"

He tried to tune out the voice calling his name. He didn't want a replay of facing his doppelganger self. He didn't want to remember feeling Kate's fear of him before she fell to her death.

"Colonel, you really need to wake up now," the voice demanded.

Fingertips patted his cheek, firmly enough that he turned his head to evade them, which caused pain to stab through his temples. Which made him feel nauseous. Which made him open his eyes and try to sit up. He was surprised by how much it hurt to make the attempt, which he totally failed at.

Keller was hovering over him, her eyes dark with concern. "Take it easy, Colonel. Let Ronon do all the work." She stepped back from him and John frowned, wondering what she meant.

A moment later he figured it out when strong arms wrapped around him and lifted him, depositing John back on the infirmary bed. To his surprise he realized he had been lying in a heap on the floor just moments ago. Which didn't make any sense. He didn't remember making it back to the infirmary.

Keller was back, settling the covers over him then reaching for his hand and swiping it with an alcohol pad.

Which hurt. "Ow!" John tried to tug his hand free, but she had a surprisingly strong grip. "What are you doing?" He felt cranky and sick and out of sorts.

"You pulled out your IV when you got out of bed," Keller explained. "Where did you think you were going, Colonel? You seemed pretty determined to get there, by the way. The nurse couldn't stop you from getting out of bed."

"What?" He was surprised to hear that, because there hadn't been any nurses around when he left. And then it hit him. He had been dreaming. Seeing his Doppelganger hadn't been anything more than a bad dream. John exhaled a bit of tension as that realization soaked into him. He felt himself relaxing against the pillows, until Keller poked the back of his other hand with a needle. Had Ronon not moved with his cat-like reflexes to pin his arm, John would have had another bloody furrow in the back of his other hand.

John didn't move again until Keller had the needle taped into place, then he stared at it a moment before asking, "What time is it?"

Keller glanced at her watch. "Just after five am. Are you hungry? It's early, but from what I heard you haven't eaten much in the past few days."

"No, I'm not hungry," John whispered. In fact, just the thought of food made his stomach roll in protest. He swallowed hard against the bile trying to rise in his throat then focused his attention on Ronon. "What are you doing here so early?"

"Figured I'd check in on you before going for my run," the Satedan replied with a shrug. "Hurry up and get better so you don't lose ground."

John scowled at him. "I'm not sick or anything and I won't lose ground!" Although he knew he would. Ronon pushed him hard when they ran or trained, which was a good thing in John's book. Even though it was tough on his body at times. It kept him sharp and ship shape.

Keller rolled her eyes at them both before patting John on the shoulder to draw his attention. "How are you feeling, Colonel? Did you need something? Is that why you got up? You do know all you have to do is call the nurse."

"I need to use the bathroom," John mumbled. He did have to go but mainly he just wanted a few minutes to himself to think about what had happened, because the memory of what he had dreamed was fresh in his mind still. Unlike most dreams it wasn't fading away. He could still feel Kate's fear and still hear his doppelganger's voice mocking him. He didn't realize he was trembling until Keller touched a hand to his forehead.

"Your temp feels a bit elevated," she announced, looking surprised. "Ronon will help you to the bathroom then I'll run your vitals and start you on antibiotics and some Ibuprofen."

John didn't argue, he just pushed the covers back. He didn't say a word as Keller hooked up the IV to a rolling stand and he didn't protest when Ronon took him by the arm to guide him to the bathroom. Once there, however, he gave Ronon a smirk and promised he could handle the rest on his own.

Once in the bathroom, John did relieve himself then he washed his hands. It wasn't easy with the IV but he managed. He also splashed water on his face and tried to avoid his reflection in the mirror because he knew what he would see. The face that haunted his dreams. The face of the man who had killed Kate Heightmeyer and terrified his friends.

"Sheppard!" Ronon's voice boomed through the door. "You okay in there?"

"I'm fine!" John called back. Big mistake. Shouting made the ache in his head spike and sent nausea roiling through him. He staggered back to the toilet, forgetting about his IV stand which fell over with a crash just as he hit his knees on the floor and emptied his stomach.

The next few minutes passed in a blur of heaving, Keller's fussing, and Ronon looming in the background. John figured he must have zoned out at one point because the next thing he knew he was back in bed and someone was wiping his face with a cool, damp cloth. It felt like heaven. In fact, he might have been able to drift off to sleep had the sudden image of his doppelganger not appeared in his mind.

"No!" John hissed, pushing away at the hand on his face and trying to sit up. He felt trapped suddenly. Trapped by the blankets twisted over his legs. Trapped by the image in his head. Trapped by the guilt that felt like it was a live thing eating its way through him from the inside out.

"Colonel, you need to calm down!" Keller's voice snapped, close to his face.

It startled John enough to make him freeze and try to open his eyes, which he hadn't actually realized had been closed. He had to blink hard to take the fuzzy edge off of Keller's face as he croaked, "Wha...happn'd?"

She looked surprised by the question, then worried. "You got sick again and passed out. You're running a temp and if I didn't know better I'd say your body was slipping into shock. But we're going to get you through this, Colonel. I promise."

He wanted to believe her, but she was too young and far too naive about the way things worked here in the Pegasus galaxy. So he turned to someone with more experience. Ronon, who was hovering at the other side of John's bed. Reaching out, John managed to snag the edge of Ronon's shirt with trembling fingers. "Make...make him go...away," John whispered, suddenly feeling heavy and dizzy as a trickling warmth seeped through his veins. It took a moment to realize that Keller had injected his IV with something.

"Make who go away?" Ronon asked, face a hard mask as he looked ready to kick some ass.

"Me..." John breathed. "Please..." There was so much more he wanted to say, so much he wanted to explain, but he felt himself fade into oblivion.

**THE END...of part 5**


	6. Chapter 6

**WHEN REALITY FADES...part 6**

John lifted his head and looked across the messhall table to see himself, arms crossed and smug expression firmly in place. "You can't hide from me," his other self smirked and then pointed to his head. "I'm in here. I'm you. And try as you might, you can't run from yourself."

John breathed out a deep, determined breath. "_You _are not _me_. You're . . . from the crystal, not from me. Leave me alone." He placed his hands firmly on the table and pushed himself up. Nausea rolled through him, but he ignored it and walked purposefully toward the exit.

He heard a familiar laugh from behind him, spurring him to walk faster. "I already told you, you can't run from me," his own voice taunted. "I'm the guilt and the failure you carry around with you, eating you from the inside. I'm the voice telling you that everyone would be better off if you'd just carry out one of your suicide missions to its proper conclusion. You know you want to."

John turned on his twin, resulting in them coming almost nose to nose. "You're wrong. I don't want to die, I want to live. How do you think I survived Kolya's little game with the Wraith? It would have been much easier just to give up and let him kill me."

His other self smiled at him, the cocky grin annoying him to no end. "You were just too stubborn to let Kolya get the better of you. You were all too happy to carry that nuclear bomb to the Wraith hive ship when they were attacking. How many other times have you thrown yourself in the path of death?"

"I do what I need to do to protect my people, my city. If you don't understand that that doesn't necessarily make me suicidal, then that's your problem. Get out of my head and leave me alone. I'm not listening to you."

"Yes you are. You put on a good act, but you know I'm telling the truth. You killed Sumner, you killed all those Genii, your ineptitude and mistakes killed Abrams and Gall and Ford. You're the reason Elizabeth is missing. You're the reason Kate is dead. How big of a list do you need? Should we go back to the days before Atlantis?"

"No!" John yelled as he whirled around and hurried down the hall. He fought against the fear and despair inside him, trying to push back the voice that kept telling him he deserved to die.

oOo

Jennifer Keller looked up from her desk as Colonel Carter stepped in the doorway. "Colonel, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there." The doctor immediately got to her feet.

Carter smiled and stepped into the office. "No problem, I just walked up. I wondered if I could talk to you about Colonel Sheppard," she asked as she took a seat.

Sitting back in her own chair. Keller nodded. "Certainly. I'm not sure what I can tell you." She motioned with one hand at the open folder in front of her. "I've been going over his latest test results. His brain chemistry is still askew and I have no idea what's causing it. There's no sign of the entity or any kind of bacterial or viral infection. No sign of any toxin or foreign material. The only thing we've been able to come up with is that the entity caused the changes in the neurotransmitter levels and somehow the effects are continuing, possibly because of the unique nature of Colonel Sheppard's contact."

Leaning forward and clasping her hands together, Carter looked across the desk at the doctor. "Bottom line, Doc. What's going to happen to Sheppard?"

Keller sighed. "I wish I knew. My best guess is that the longer the entity is away, the more diminished the effects will become."

"So, it will wear off?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Keller sighed. "I think it will, but I can't guarantee it."

Carter gave a slow nod as she straightened in the chair. "What can we do in the meantime?"

"He's not only suffering from some pretty disturbing nightmares, but he's also showing the effects of the beating he took while that thing was in his head. I think the combination of those things along with his brain and blood chemistry being so abnormal are behind the fever and sickness he's been experiencing."

"Do you think the nightmares are related to the crystal entity?" asked Carter.

"Yeah," said Keller quietly. "I'm pretty sure of it. After the last one, he asked Ronon to make him go away. When Ronon asked who, the Colonel said 'me'."

A loud, metallic crash made both women jump, after which they got quickly to their feet. As soon as they left the office, it was clear where the disturbance was coming from. Ronon and Teyla were helping a nurse as she tried to keep a struggling Sheppard in his bed. A cart was turned over on its side, with medical supplies scattered in disarray around it.

"You're wrong, I don't want to die," John said loudly, but to no one in particular.

"John, wake up," said Teyla firmly, tapping John on the side of his face as he squirmed beneath them.

"Don't hurt him," Rodney pleaded from the foot of the bed as he twisted his hands together. "He's already a mess."

Keller moved in to take over from the nurse and shook John by the shoulder. "Colonel Sheppard, I need you to listen and open your eyes for me."

"Get out of my head and leave me alone!" John threw one hand out to smack Ronon across the face.

Ronon's expression tightened along with his grip on his CO as he licked the blood from his split lip. "Sheppard, you need to calm down."

"No!" John cried as his body suddenly arched and stiffened, before going limp back into the mattress.

Keller patted John's cheek with enough force to be called a light slap. "Colonel Sheppard, you're safe. He's not there, he's gone. Open your eyes and I'll prove it." She was a little surprised when John responded by fluttering his eyelids and then opening them a small slit. He had stopped thrashing and trying to pull away from their grip, so Teyla and Ronon loosened their hold and stepped back.

"John, we are here," assured Teyla, moving her hand to John's shoulder and giving him a light squeeze.

John blinked slowly and widened his eyes a little. "He's wrong . . . don't wanna . . . die."

"We know you do not want to die, none of us do," said Teyla.

"Wait a minute, who are we talking about?" asked Rodney. "The other him, the bad Sheppard is gone."

"He's still in his head," said Ronon.

Rodney frowned. "No, that's not possible. Radek scanned him and you saw that the entity went back into the crystal. He's gone."

"We think the effects it caused are taking a while to clear up," said Keller. "I don't know if it's because the Colonel was the first carrier or because it imprinted on him, or maybe because of what happened there at the end, but for some reason Colonel Sheppard is continuing to experience nightmares and altered brain chemistry."

Sighing loudly, Rodney shook his head. "Figures." Crossing his arms, he shifted his feet nervously. "So, is he going to be okay?"

Now it was Keller's turn to look nervous. "I think so, it's just going to take time."

John moaned, getting everyone's attention. Grimacing with his eyes tightly shut, he swallowed a few times. "Sick," he whispered.

Teyla and Ronon lifted John into a sitting position while Keller grabbed the metal dish sitting on the table beside the bed, put there for just this purpose. John didn't bring up much, just a little bile and mucus, but the effort of heaving left him exhausted. Teyla let his head rest on her shoulder while Keller traded the dish for a wet rag delivered by the nurse.

"Sorry," he said softly as the doctor wiped his face.

"There is no need to apologize," said Teyla. "We only want you to feel better."

Keller handed the rag back to the nurse, who handed her a loaded syringe. "Something to help with the fever," she explained as she injected it into the IV port. "I thought this best since your stomach isn't sitting too well."

John nodded in agreement before turning back to Teyla, his expression serious and his eyes a little too bright. "You . . . don't think . . . I'm . . . suicidal . . . do you?"

Her expression darkening as she remembered John's earlier words, Teyla tightened her grip on John's arm. "No, I do not. I believe you have a will to live that has carried you through many situations others would not have survived."

"He lies, Sheppard," said Ronon, griping John's arm from the other side.

"But . . . he's me."

"No, he's not," said Rodney, his voice firm and sure. "He wants you to think that. He wants you to believe him, but all he does is lie. He told you I was dead, but obviously I'm not. Don't listen to him, listen to us."

Teyla nodded. "Rodney is right. We are your team, John. We will tell you the truth, not him."

Keller had finished cleaning John up and checking him, so she motioned for them to lay him back. Ronon and Teyla eased John back against the pillows. Taking in a few shallow breaths, John looked at his team. "Thought . . . he was gone."

"We thought so too," said Rodney. "But, as usual, things are more complicated when you're involved."

Closing his eyes, John grunted lightly. "Not . . . my fault."

Teyla smiled at him. "No John, it is not your fault."

"For once," murmured Rodney.

Carter rolled her eyes and looked back at John. "Just get some rest, John. Dr. Keller thinks the effects will wear off eventually."

"And we'll be here until they do, watching your six," said Ronon. "Just remember that when he shows up and starts telling you lies."

John looked at Ronon and then down to his feet. "Not . . . all lies."

"Yes," said Rodney, "they are. The way he's presenting it, they are lies. He distorts the truth, twists it around until it isn't the truth any more. You can't listen to him."

"No . . . entity's gone . . . so it's me."

"That's not entirely true," said Keller. "The entity is gone, but it left your brain chemistry in a mess and I think there's a bit of an imprint on your subconscious. I'm not psychiatrist . . . " She trailed off as everyone winced at the reminder of Kate's death. Clearing her throat, she took a deep breath and continued. "Anyway, I just think that maybe you carry around some pretty hefty baggage in the guilt department and the entity picked up on that. The lasting image he left in your subconscious pulls on that connection since that's what was already established. The changes in your brain chemistry and the fever are reinforcing the effects, possibly magnifying them."

"What she's trying to say is you have to fight it, Sheppard," summarized Ronon.

John frowned up at the big man standing protectively beside his bed. "I am," he said weakly.

Ronon grinned and grabbed Sheppard almost roughly by the upper arm. "I mean fight hard."

John winced at the firm grip on his bruised limb. "Fight . . . hard . . . got it."

oOo

Carter stood beside Keller, watching John's team as they surrounded him. Ronon sat on the corner near John's feet, while Rodney sat in a chair next to his left arm. John was as far to the left side of the bed as he could get and Teyla sat next to him on the right. John's head had slowly drooped to one side and was now resting on Teyla's shoulder, his eyes barely open.

"He's fighting sleep, afraid of the nightmares . . . afraid of his doppelganger," said Keller.

Carter sighed. "He has his team with him. That should help."

"I think it's the only thing holding him together right now," said the doctor. "I just hope it's enough."

TBC

_By the way, you guys are wonderful. Have we told you that lately?_


	7. Chapter 7

**WHEN REALITY FADES...part 7**

"I bet Sumner's pissed," John's other self said, conversationally, from the co-pilot seat of the puddlejumper.

John glared at him. "Sumner is dead!" he snapped, reliving the moment he'd put a bullet through the man's heart to save him both from the agony of a slow death and the risk of revealing the location of Earth before he died.

His other self shrugged. "He is, thanks to you. But if you hadn't been so trigger-happy, maybe the Wraith Queen would have given him his life back in exchange for information."

"Information we couldn't let her have!" John protested. He knew he was arguing with himself, but he couldn't stop what was happening. Hell, he couldn't even fly the puddle jumper in a straight line in his dreams. So he decided it was time to land and he settled them on the beach of the mainland of their new world. They hadn't had much of a chance to explore it yet and what better time to explore than during a dream.

Rising from his seat, John strode towards the hatch as the door lowered, only just then realizing he was barefoot and wearing scrubs. The barefoot thing made him think of Lorne almost shooting him for being a Replicator. Which made him think of Elizabeth. All of which made his head hurt and his stomach churn. "No..." John whispered. "Stop!"

His other self was suddenly in front of him. "It's never going to stop, John. Never. All those wee ghosties haunting you will never disappear. You killed them all, John. No one but you. It's your fault so many are dead and gone and that so many are targeted to die. Waking up the Wraith and all. No one's fault but your own."

John had winced at the wee ghostie comment, the image of Carson popping into his head. That hadn't been his fault technically, but he carried the guilt by default. Carson was just one more person he hadn't been able to save. Another life lost on his watch. Another notch in his belt, so to speak. Another skeleton in his closet.

Stepping around his other self, John started walking. He didn't know how else to get away from himself. How to wake up and make this stop. Suddenly, without warning, he found himself standing on a cliff. Teetering on the edge, actually. He stumbled back and felt his heart thudding hard in his chest. He remembered the look of fear on Kate's face. He could taste her terror as she had fallen to her death. An imaginary fall that had led to an all too real demise.

Bile welled up in John's throat. He tried to swallow it down but it surged upward and suddenly he was choking.

"John!"

He heard Teyla's voice, then something solid was against his chin and he was emptying his stomach in painful waves of retching. It seemed to go on forever and he must have zoned out a bit because the next thing he knew he was resting back against the pillows, there was a soothing coolness seeping through his veins and fingers brushing over his forehead, helping to ease his tension.

John didn't want to move. He wanted to just stay like this where he was awake enough not to dream. Not that it mattered. His other self seemed to be able to mess with him whether he was awake or sleeping. Which was motivation enough for John to open his eyes. Not surprisingly, it was Teyla who was stroking his forehead.

She pulled away when she noticed his eyes opening. "How are you feeling, John?"

"Been better," he croaked.

Keller had ice chips ready before he asked for them and they felt like heaven sliding down his throat. What felt even better was the mouthwash rinse that Keller offered him. Getting the bad taste out of his mouth helped his stomach to settle. After that he felt up to asking a few questions. "How long did I sleep?"

Making a face, Keller replied, "About two hours. You need more than that, Colonel."

"Yeah, I know." John shifted, trying to get more comfortable and failing. He felt achy and sore and clammy and gritty. "Could I take a shower?" He had more questions but he wasn't sure he wanted answers so he'd go with something he did want and need. To be clean again. He felt dirty in a way that wasn't wholly physical, but a shower would take care of part of the problem and he'd take what he could get.

"I don't think you're up to a shower, Colonel," Keller replied. "Your temp is up and I'm considering starting a second IV for nutrients if we can't get your stomach to settle. You're also working yourself into a full blown case of dehydration."

John let rip with the puppy dog eyes. "Please. I feel sweaty and gritty and being clean will help. Just a quick shower."

Ronon had been hovering at the foot of the bed and he interjected with, "I'll help him. Won't be the first time." He grinned when John winced at how true that was.

Keller didn't look convinced until Teyla piped up. "He will feel better and we can change the linens. Ronon will take good care of him."

John felt a tingle of gratitude for both his teammates. They were sticking by him no matter what, and they knew him better than anyone else did. Hell, if John were honest, they knew him better than anyone in his family ever had. So now he added his plea to theirs. "Please, Doc? Let me shower and I'll let you stick me with more needles."

"Fine." Keller was smart enough to know when she was beaten. She pointed a finger at John. "But you let Ronon help you and then it's right back to bed. And, for the record, I am starting another IV." She started fussing with the one he had in him now. "I also want you to try and eat something."

"I'm not really hungry, Doc," John protested. Because just the thought of food made him nauseous.

Squeezing his arm carefully, ever mindful of his bruises, Keller nodded. "I know, but you have to try and get some food into you, Colonel. It might actually help the nausea in the long run."

John realized she was right so he nodded. Which made pain spike in his temples and he silently cursed himself for being so stupid. But the pain passed and by that time he realized Keller had him detached from the IV, Teyla had a wheelchair waiting and Ronon was already easing him off the bed. Teamwork at its best.

The ride to the bathroom was swift. Ronon got the shower running while John relieved himself, then they made short work of getting him stripped and in the shower. John had been in the military his entire adult life so he'd long ago gotten over being naked in front of a teammate. Course, he would have issues with being naked in front of Teyla, but that was pretty much a non issue and John almost laughed out loud at his own thoughts. Five minutes later he was clean from head to toe, dried off and back in fresh scrubs.

He was just brushing his fingers through his damp hair and relishing how good it felt to be clean and how he felt cooler and less achy as well, when his other self popped back in.

"Do you ever wonder how long it's gonna be before you fail your team?" asked his doppelganger, as he leaned against the sink.

"Go to hell!" John hissed, knowing that Ronon was still in the room and not caring. "You're not real!"

His other self burst into laughter. "I'm as real as it gets, John! I'm the real you. The you you're afraid to let anyone see. The YOU you hide from the rest of the world." The laughter cut off abruptly. "I'm the guy you pretend so hard not to be!"

John wanted to deny it, but he couldn't. It was the truth he had tried to avoid his entire life. He was the failure his father had always proclaimed him to be. He was the man who had failed as a son and a husband and a soldier. He was the guy that woke up the Waith. The guy who got his job as Military head of Atlantis because he'd killed his CO. The guy who fooled everyone into believing he was someone else.

"Sheppard!" Ronon was suddenly there, standing between John and his other self. "Don't let him beat you!" Ronon growled.

"I'm tired," John whispered, feeling his muscles go lax. He felt Ronon catch him then his other self was there, leaning over him. Grinning at him, his own eyes reflecting the horrible truth back at him.

Ronon lifted John, striding out of the bathroom and back to his bed where the others waited. He laid John out carefully. "Don't let him win! Fight him!"

John was tired of fighting. "He's telling the truth," he mumbled. "He knows me better than anyone."

"You're wrong!" It was Teyla looming over him now, her eyes as fierce as her tone. "We know you, John! Whatever he's saying to you is a lie! Remember what Rodney said. He's twisting everything to present the truth as lies. Don't believe him! Believe us!"

He wanted to believe but he knew the truth. John stared at his other self who was hovering behind Teyla's shoulder. "You win," John whispered, then he let himself slide into cold darkness.

**THE END...of part 7**


	8. Chapter 8

**WHEN REALITY FADES...part 8**

Carter entered the infirmary to find John's team relegated to the waiting area near the entrance. Ronon was pacing, almost angrily, while Teyla and Rodney sat in the chairs provided. All eyes turned to her as she entered.

"What happened?" she asked, her question directed to no one in particular.

"The crystal entity," replied Rodney. "What else? We finally get rid of the thing and yet here it is, knocking the Colonel on his butt once again."

"Should the effects not have begun to diminish by now?" asked Carter.

Rodney shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "You'd have thought so, but Keller doesn't seem to have a clue."

"That is not fair," said Teyla. "This is a new situation for all of us. She cannot be expected to know every medical condition in a new galaxy, just as you do not always know everything about the new technology we find."

Opening and closing his mouth a few times without producing any sound, Rodney finally cleared his throat and shook off what he undoubtedly saw as an insult. "Well, maybe not right away, but I always figure it out . . . and usually before this long," he announced smugly.

"Keller's here," said Ronon, pushing away from where he'd ended up leaning against the wall.

"Well?" asked Rodney nervously.

Keller glanced around at them, her hands fidgeting first in front of her and then at her sides. "His fever is up and we can't get him to respond to us. I think he's exhausted, both mentally and physically. We're providing all the support we can until this thing begins to turn around."

"Do you still think this will get better on its own?" asked Carter.

Keller chewed her lower lip a second before letting out along breath. "I do, but . . . you have to understand that I can't be sure and, even if it does get better on its own, I don't know how long it will take. He's having a really hard time with this –"

"Ya think?" snapped Rodney, quieting at a sharp look from Carter.

"Anyway, I believe the nightmares and sickness have basically used all his reserves for now."

"Are you saying he's given up, because Sheppard doesn't do that," said Ronon defiantly.

"Well, you have to admit it kind of sounded like he was," said Rodney.

Keller shook her head. "No, I don't think he's given up, I think he's just . . . well, I think maybe he's given in for the moment, just because he doesn't have anything to fight with right now. I think he's resting, building up his defenses for the next round. I agree, Colonel Sheppard is not a quitter."

"No, he is not," said Teyla. "Do you think it would help for us to sit with him and talk to him, letting him know he is not alone, that we are there for him?"

Keller hesitated just a moment before giving a nod. "That's probably a good idea, Teyla. Sometimes even when people are unconscious, they are still aware of things on some level. The support might be just what he needs."

"Is there anything else we can do?" asked Carter.

"No, I'm afraid not. I know waiting is the hardest thing to do for someone you care about, but that's all we can do right now. You can go in, but you'll need to be quiet." Keller motioned toward further in the infirmary where John was. His team responded by heading for him immediately. Carter paused beside Keller.

"You really have no idea how much longer this could go on?" asked Carter.

"No, Colonel, I'm sorry, but I don't," Keller replied.

Sighing, Carter gave her a quick nod. "Okay, let me know if anything changes."

"I will." Keller watched Carter leave and then went to check on John and see how the team had settled.

oOo

John blinked and looked around, shocked to find himself sitting in the boat beside McKay again, a cold rain pelting down on them. His eyes settled on the scientist, who was looking at him in concern.

"McKay . . . what the heck is going on?"

Rodney shrugged his shoulders. "You tell me. This is your mind."

"But this is _your_ nightmare," John drawled.

Lifting his index finger, Rodney shook his head. "Well, technically it isn't because I'm not really here. This is your nightmare, but you've crafted it around what you saw in mine. I'm not going to speculate on what that might mean."

Frowning, John narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean you aren't here?" He glanced around the large body of water as they sat alone in the middle of an ocean. "We aren't connected to that Ancient doohickey again, are we?"

Rolling his eyes in typical McKay fashion, Rodney sighed loudly. "No, Colonel, we aren't. You were apparently not listening when I told you that I wasn't really here, surprise, surprise. I'm merely your subconscious impression of McKay, dredged up to try and help you out of this mess. You know," he said smugly, "like I always do."

"Actually, I think it's the other way around," John said defensively.

"Oh, you mean like the last time we were in this boat? Let's see, how did that end? Oh, right, we got _eaten _by a giant whale!"

"And I got the entity out of your head."

"And then I died. How is getting me killed saving me?" asked Rodney.

"Keller brought you back. I did what I could do, Rodney, and I got that thing to leave you alone."

Clapping broke the tension and they looked up to find John's doppelganger sitting in the front of the boat. "Bravo, gentlemen, bravo! That was quite entertaining. Are you sure you made a wise selection in who to bring on board to help you?"

"And who would you suggest?" snapped Rodney. "Conan? Xena? It isn't strength that's needed here, it's brains. Naturally I was his first choice. What's the matter, are you worried?"

Doppelganger John tilted his head back and laughed. "Hardly. Why would I ever be afraid of you?"

"Because I'm smarter than you . . . and better looking, too."

"Hey," John said sharply. "Who told you that, because they were seriously stringing you along."

Rodney huffed as he turned to face John. "Well, that's a matter of opinion, but I _am _smarter. Hello? Genius here."

Furrowing his brow, John crossed his arms, hugging himself to ward off the penetrating cold of the rain. "I seem to recall correcting your math a few times."

Rodney waved a hand flippantly at him. "Hardly an issue. You find minor mistakes in my rough drafts that I would catch the second run anyway. I'm still smarter. Who saves us on a regular basis? That would be me."

"And me," John said defensively and then smirked. "And I'm still better looking."

"What are you doing?" roared the doppelganger.

"Shut up," the two men chorused in unison without sparing the entity so much as a glance.

"You will stop this arguing right now," John's look-a-like demanded, standing up in the boat.

John turned to look at an angry version of himself and saw Rodney doing the same. "You obviously don't know us very well. This is what we do." Turning back to Rodney, he ran his hand up through his wet hair, pushing it back off his forehead. "You _do _remember who Chaya liked, don't you?"

"Oh, please, don't remind me. Just because every Ancient slut this side of the galaxy is attracted to your gene doesn't make you better looking. Katie is a real person and she likes _me_ better."

"She's a geek, Rodney, of course she's going to pick another geek. That hardly counts. What about that hot chick on P3X-422? Huh? Who did she follow around drooling over?"

"That would be Major Lorne."

"Yeah, but only after I let her know I wasn't interested."

"Oh, please –"

"Stop!" the other John yelled. "You have to listen to me!"

John and Rodney laughed at the doppelganger, making his furious. "No," said Rodney between chuckles. "We don't have to listen to you because you aren't the real thing. You're a fading ghost, a nothing. A nothing with no power. So shoo!"

John glanced at the fading ghost of himself and felt an intense release. "Yeah," he breathed out. "What he said."

oOo

"Maybe you should get Keller," said Rodney worriedly as they watched John thrash around in the bed, sweat pasting his hair to the edges of his face. He groaned once, his breaths coming quick and shallow.

"I'll go," said Ronon, disappearing almost before Rodney could raise his head to look. Shifting his eyes over to Teyla, standing on the other side of the bed, he noticed her holding John's hand and stroking his arm.

"He'll be okay," Rodney said, trying to be reassuring and feeling like a liar.

"Yes, he will," said Teyla in a firm voice that made him feel like she was the one doing the comforting. But then, she was much better at it than he was.

Keller arrived, shouldering Rodney to one side as she checked the monitors around John and frowned. "His pressure and temperature are both up," she announced as she pulled the blanket down and John's scrub shirt up to place her stethoscope on his chest. They watched in silence for a moment until she was finished and replaced his top and covers. She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when John groaned again, his lids fluttering.

"Colonel," she said, leaning over to tap him on the cheek. "Colonel Sheppard, can you open your eyes and wake up for a minute?"

John groaned again, but his eyes opened. Blinking a few times, he seemed to focus on the ceiling before shifting his head slightly to look at Keller, struggling to say something.

"Take it easy, Colonel, you've had a rough couple of days," she soothed.

"Ro – Rod –ney," John stammered, his voice low and rough.

Rodney, hearing his name, elbowed Keller's arm. "He's trying to say something to me, do you mind?"

Keller raised her eyebrows at the same time as her hands. "By all means, Dr. McKay," she said as she moved back and let Rodney in.

"I'm here, Sheppard, what do you need?" he asked anxiously, watching the sick man's eyes focus on him. Then John surprised him and smiled.

"Thanks," he whispered.

Confused, Rodney leaned a little closer. "For what?"

"Making him leave."

Rodney wasn't sure he'd heard John correctly because his voice was so soft. "Making him leave? Who, your copy? How? I didn't do anything."

John chuckled softly, letting his eyes drift closed. "Being you . . . always . . . annoying."

Rodney straightened and looked around at the others. "Did he just thank me and then say I was annoying?"

"Yes, I believe he did," said Keller, looking as confused as Rodney felt.

"I'm not sure whether to be flattered or insulted."

"I'd say both," said Ronon with a smile. "He looks more relaxed."

Keller, who had been watching the monitors, nodded. "His blood pressure is starting to come down. Hopefully this is a sign the effects are beginning to go away."

"I still do not understand what Rodney has to do with it," said Teyla.

"None of us do," said Keller. "We'll just have to wait until the Colonel wakes up."

"Great," muttered Rodney.

oOo

Rodney paced back and forth as Keller checked John's injuries, IV, and vital signs. It had been almost twenty hours since his cryptic _thank you_ and Rodney was getting annoyed. "So, is he getting better or not? I thought he'd wake up before now."

"John woke up twice today," said Teyla.

"I meant for more than thirty seconds," complained Rodney, frowning as he watched Ronon smirk. "You know, and coherent would be nice, too."

"I don't know, I thought he was pretty coherent," said Ronon, still grinning.

Keller turned to look at them, her hands on her hips. "Did he say anything?"

Clearing her throat, Teyla brought her gaze up to meet Keller's. "He told Rodney he was still better looking."

"Obviously delirious," said Rodney in disgust.

Keller smiled. "Well, actually, his temperature is almost back to normal, certainly not high enough for delirium." She looked down at her patient, obviously pleased. "Everything is showing improvement, as a matter of fact."

Rodney frowned and crossed his arms, his volume rising slightly. "I repeat, if he's getting better, why isn't he awake?"

Keller's expression sobered and darkened a bit. "Perhaps you remember me telling you about a concussion, deep bruising, and some cracked ribs? Add to that the fever and vomiting he's been experiencing the last few days and his internal battle with the remnants of the crystal entity. It's a wonder he's been awake at all, Dr. McKay. He's mentally and physically exhausted. Give him a chance to catch his breath."

Rodney wanted to argue, to tell Keller to back off and get over herself, but he couldn't. Not when he knew what she said was true. John had literally been through hell the last few days and if he needed a little more sleep, the least Rodney could do was let him have it. So he sighed, dropped his head a little, and flopped into the nearest chair.

"Fine, fine, he needs more sleep, I got it," he snapped. He might see her point, but that didn't mean he had to accept it graciously. When Sheppard woke up, he was going to be there so the man could explain all his mysterious statements. He knew the pilot was doing this on purpose, just trying to drive him crazy. It was just like him and his juvenile sense of humor. No matter that he hadn't been lucid long enough in several days to remember his own name.

He jumped a bit at a touch on his arm and looked up to see Teyla standing there smiling at him. "We have all been worried and are anxious to see John awake. I'm sure it will not be much longer now. We will wait together."

Even as she talked, her voice smooth as silk, he felt himself begin to relax, the tension flowing from his neck and shoulders, leaving behind a tired ache. How did she do that? Worry and emotions from the last few days welled up inside and he knew he didn't dare try to talk, so he just nodded and tried to return her smile. What was happening to him? He couldn't even think of a snappy comeback, much less vocalize it.

"Rodney?"

Looking up at Teyla, he scowled and waved her away. "I'm fine . . . just . . . fine." He glanced over at John, sleeping almost peacefully in the bed. Well, he'd be fine as soon as he was absolutely sure Sheppard was okay. Glancing up at the rest of his team as they studied their team leader, he knew he wasn't the only one who felt that way. He found that strangely comforting.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**WHEN REALITY FADES...part 9**

John felt consciousness tugging at him and he resisted its pull for as long as he could, until an irritating buzz-like sound echoed so loudly inside his skull he thought he might lose his mind. What made it worse was that it was two sounds, jagged and uneven to his ears, and he couldn't figure out what it was. Which meant leaving the warm, quiet, peaceful darkness and forcing his eyes open to blink against the dim light.

It took a long moment of blinking before his eyes adjusted and John turned his head towards the buzzing sound. He found himself smiling as he stared at Ronon and Rodney, both sprawled in chairs and snoring loudly. A quick glance around showed he was back in the infirmary, but he could deal with that. His head didn't hurt, there was just a slight ache he could deal with, and his other self appeared to be gone. Hopefully for good.

Fragments of a conversation with Rodney, no...more bickering than talking, with Rodney flashed through his mind.

"John?" It was Teyla, suddenly leaning over him and looking both concerned and relieved at the same time.

"Hey..." he croaked out, and the dryness in his throat made him choke, which led to coughing, which made his head ache and made him dizzy and disoriented and suddenly there were warm hands, and cool wetness on his skin and disjointed voices in the background. When everything finally settled down and stilled, John was ready to sleep again.

But Keller had other ideas. She patted his face and called his name. Repeatedly. He didn't remember her ever calling him by his first name before. "John! I need you to open your eyes, just for a moment!"

He realized she probably did it to get his attention. Between that and the annoying pats on his cheek, John got the hint. He cracked his eyes open, but didn't try to speak again.

Keller heaved an audible sigh of relief. "Good to have you back with us, Colonel," she said, brightly.

He just blinked at her. His head ached again and he wasn't about to try talking.

She seemed to get the hint anyway. "I'm going to give you something that should help any aches and pains and help you sleep some more. The more you sleep right now, the better."

"That's all he does is sleep!" Rodney protested, from somewhere to John's left. At least he had stopped snoring.

Feeling something cool sliding through his veins, John let the darkness that melted over him, take him away.

OoO

The next time he opened his eyes, it was to find Rodney sitting beside him, tapping away on his laptop. John felt gritty and sore but not as tired, and his head didn't feel achy. He tried clearing his throat, to test whether or not he should risk talking again.

Rodney must have heard the noise, because he was suddenly by the bed, offering an ice chip.

Nodding, John opened his mouth and closed his eyes as the chip slipped in. The cool wetness was like ambrosia as it slid down his throat. "More," he whispered, and Rodney gave him another. Sweet relief.

"You going to stay awake now?" Rodney asked, sounding almost petulant.

John opened his eyes. "How long?" he asked, shifting a bit and feeling an IV tube and a catheter. So he knew it had to be a while.

Rodney sighed. "Six days. Keller said you need the rest. You should be rested enough to stay awake for more than thirty seconds at a time by now. You're fever's gone and you haven't had any nightmares. Of course, Keller has kept you pretty heavily medicated. Oh, and that nurse with the freaky blond hair has been giving you sponge baths. Watch out, because I guarantee once you're back on your feet, she's going to stalk you."

"Okay," John slurred, because anything else would have been entirely too much effort. He hated catheters and sponge baths, but he was too tired to protest either at the moment. All he wanted to do was sleep.

"That's all you have to say?" Rodney looked stunned. "Okay? Are you not understanding me? Sponge baths, Colonel!"

John nodded and was glad when his temples didn't spike with pain. "I heard. Tired."

Rodney gritted his teeth loud enough for John to hear the grinding. "You can't be tired! Besides which, you need to stay awake long enough to eat something. Otherwise Keller is going to hook you up to a feeding tube. You're wasting away to nothing, Sheppard!"

The anger in Rodney's tone surprised John, but not enough to make him ask about it. He seriously wanted only to sleep. But suddenly Keller was there, talking about soup and telling him he was doing much better and John nodded and was relieved when she shooed Rodney away. But it was only so she could examine him, then there was a mug of soup that he managed to take a few sips of, then talk of getting him out of bed in the morning and maybe a shower and John simply nodded before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

OoO

The next day there was more soup, which was really just a clear broth, then Ronon lifting him to his feet, then an actual tub where he got a real bath and John was pretty sure he slept through it, but then there were clean sheets, scrubs and no catheter and he realized he felt better and a bit more alert. Enough to visit with Teyla for a few minutes, drink more broth, take a nibble of toast and then sleep some more. He did that for two more days, pretty much the exact same routine, only to wake up on his own with a full bladder in the middle of the night.

John reached for the call button, even as he pushed the covers back. He was attempting to stand when Mark, the only male nurse on Atlantis, came striding over.

"Bathroom run, Colonel?" Mark asked, as he wrapped a beefy arm around John's waist and pretty much lifted him to his feet.

"Yeah." That Mark pretty much carried him to the bathroom should have bothered John, but it didn't. He just wanted to relieve himself and climb back into bed. Only once back he realized he couldn't sleep.

Mark was hovering. "Something wrong?"

It took John a moment to realize what was bugging him. He was hungry. But not for soup. He wanted something solid. "I could eat," he said quietly.

"Dr. Keller will like hearing that," Mark replied, a big grin splitting his face. "I'll send someone for some more soup."

"How about a turkey sandwich?" John countered.

But Mark shook his head. "You're stomach would hate you for even trying it. How about we compromise with toast?"

John sighed but nodded. He thought about making a counter offer, but it didn't seem worth the effort. "With butter?" he pleaded, because dry toast sucked.

"Butter we can do," Mark allowed. "But just a bit." Then he was gone, leaving John to curl up under the covers while he waited. Which meant drifting off to sleep. But he woke up, ate his toast, and managed to sleep till morning.

Morning brought Teyla with a bowl of thin oatmeal and another slice of toast and juice. John thanked her.

"Dr. Keller said it is time to get you eating regularly again," Teyla replied, as she watched him try the oatmeal. "We want you back on your feet, John."

"I want that too," he replied, and he meant it. He did. He just didn't have the energy to work on it very hard. "Where's Rodney?" he asked, after making a face and pushing the oatmeal aside. He'd settle for the toast.

Teyla shrugged. "He's been spending a lot of time in his lab. When I ask he tells me he's very busy catching up on things."

John couldn't shake the sense that Rodney was mad at him. He thought maybe he should ask Teyla to get him so they could talk, but all he really wanted to do was take a nap.

Ronon seemed to have other ideas, as did Keller. They came over to his bed, Keller frowning at how little he had eaten, before she pushed a smile onto her face.

"How do you feel about taking a walk around the infirmary, Colonel?"

"Sounds good," John replied, because that's what he should say. But he let Ronon do all the work getting him to his feet and keeping him there. He did try to support his own weight when they started walking, but his knees felt like jelly and Ronon was strong enough to support him, so John let him. They made half a circuit before John's knees gave out and when Ronon lifted him and carried him back to bed, John didn't protest. He just curled up, letting Teyla cover him again. But the others were still gathered around him so John smiled and said, "We'll try again tomorrow, big guy. You'll have me back up and running in no time."

Ronon eyed him for a moment, then said, "I'll be back after lunch and supper. Rest well, Sheppard." Then he was gone.

Keller patted his arm. "Rest a bit then I'll bring you something to eat. I think the best route is eight small meals a day to get your strength back and some weight on."

"Sure." John nodded his agreement.

"I'll be back to check on you," Keller promised, before drifting away.

Which left Teyla. John held her warm gaze a moment then said, "You don't have to stay with me."

"I wish to stay," Teyla replied. "I brought a book. Shall I read to you?" 

John knew that Elizabeth had taught Teyla to read English and that the Athosian was proud of her accomplishment. So he nodded. "That would be great." He let his eyes drift shut, falling asleep before she'd reached the end of the first page.

**THE END...of part 9**


	10. Chapter 10

**Note: **Last chapter, believe it or not. Thank you to everyone for reading and/or reviewing. I'm sorry I didn't respond to you individually – just too crazy to keep logging in and out between accounts and I'm easily confused, but we both appreciate the feedback. Off to work on our next one!!!

**WHEN REALITY FADES...part 10**

When the door in front of him slid open, John sucked in a deep breath, letting the warm, moist air fill his lungs completely before breathing it slowly out.

"Feel good?" asked Keller with a light chuckle.

"You have no idea," said John breathily, pushing forward into the sunlight. He was dressed in scrubs and a light robe and the breeze felt wonderful, ruffling his hair and touching his skin, but warm enough not to chill him.

"Have a seat, Colonel," ordered Keller, taking his elbow and leading him to the bench set up near one side of the railing. "It was quite a walk from the infirmary and we don't want you collapsing in a heap."

John winced at the comment that touched a sore spot with him, his continuing weakness. He'd been awake and alert for a week now, his naps getting shorter every day. His strength was increasing as well, but at a much slower pace, a pace that was really getting on his nerves.

Once they were settled on the bench, he turned to the doctor he was slowly getting to know better. "How long do you think this is going to last?"

Keller squinted as she turned her head towards him, the sun coming in just over his shoulder. "I assume you mean the lingering lethargy and lack of energy." At his nod, she continued. "Well, it is getting better, although I know it's been slow. I think you've gained a lot in the last day or so, much more than the previous several days, so I think that indicates the pace will continue to increase. I'll probably be able to release you in a couple of days, but not to return to duty, of course."

"Of course," he said wryly.

Keller chuckled again. "You aren't going to like this, but I can't give you a timetable. If you continue to improve as you are now, I can release you to your quarters in a day or two, with someone checking on you several times a day and limited time up walking around. You need to get up and about to build your strength, but we need to be careful that you don't overdo it, especially at first. Then we'll just take it a day at a time, gradually increasing your activity level until we have you back up to speed. When I think you're ready, I'll start you on half days of light duty, then increase to full days, and then eventually full duty."

Sighing, John looked up to the clear blue sky, enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin. "I just . . . I hate this, you know?"

"I know, Colonel," she said with sympathy. "But I won't risk your health just because you're starting to get bored."

A small, almost bitter laugh crossed his lips and he looked back down at a confused Keller. "That . . . it sounded kind of like something Carson would say. And just for the record, I wouldn't expect anything else."

Keller smiled and patted his hand. "I'm glad to hear that, and Carson would be as well. Are you ready to head back yet?"

"No, could I please have a few more minutes?" he asked, a bit of pleading in his voice.

The door slid open to reveal Rodney, staring out onto the balcony as if in a stupor. After a moment he finally stepped forward and walked toward the bench.

"Oh, hey, you _are _out here. I thought that nurse was making it up to get rid of me."

John's brows eased up a bit. "Why would she . . . oh, never mind. Dr. Keller let me walk out here to get a little fresh air."

Keller stood and motioned toward the bench. "Why don't you take my spot, Dr. McKay and I'll head back to the infirmary. I'll be back in a few minutes with a wheel chair."

"I can walk back," said John.

"That may be true," said Keller. "But this is the farthest you've walked so far and the longest you've been out of bed. Neither of us wants me trying to carry you back to the infirmary, so I'll just get that wheelchair and come back for you."

"She's right you know," piped in Rodney, taking the seat next to John.

John sighed heavily and rubbed his chin. He knew she was right, the lethargy already beginning to weigh him down. He was already too tired to walk all the way back without having to sit down and rest, which made him wonder why he'd ever argued at all. "Okay, fine, I'll ride back."

Keller clapped him on the shoulder as she left. "Good decision, Colonel."

"Hmm, yeah, like I ever really had any choice," John said under his breath.

"Oh, quit whining, it's for your own good and you know it,' said Rodney. He looked up to find John grinning at him. "What?"

"I haven't had a chance to thank you yet."

Rodney sat open mouthed for a moment before letting his gaze drop to the ground. "Uh, yeah, I got behind . . . you know, doing the bedside vigil thing for so long . . . and all you did was sleep so . . . well, _someone _has to keep this place running and Radek _certainly _can't-"

"Rodney, it's okay."

"What?" he asked, jerking his head up to find John still grinning at him.

"I said it's okay that you were avoiding me. Under the circumstances, I probably would have been avoiding me too," John said, his voice a little sad. "Mostly I was worried you were mad at me."

Rodney began shaking his head. "No, no, I wasn't mad or avoiding you. Well, okay, in a way I guess I was but it was just . . . " He sat for a moment, trying to think. "You wouldn't wake up," he finally said.

John studied him for several minutes, noting the extra lines in Rodney's face, lines of worry and lack of sleep. It was ironic that John's needing so much sleep had caused Rodney to lose sleep. "I . . . I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. I was just so exhausted. I'm still tired and weak and . . . " He trailed off and ran a hand across his face, feeling the scratch brought on by not shaving that morning. He hadn't had the energy after his shower. "I really hate this."

"I'm . . . well, for not coming by the last few days . . . I have been checking on you with Keller and Ronon and Teyla, I just . . . anyway . . . you know," Rodney said while waving his arms dramatically.

John smiled at him. "Yeah, I know."

"We're kind of pathetic, you know that, right?" asked Rodney.

John chuckled and looked at his friend. "Yeah, I guess we are. But since we're equally pathetic, we understand each other without having to say that stuff, so we're good."

Breaking out in an almost relieved grin, Rodney snapped his fingers. "Yeah, yeah, almost like our own language. Hey, that's kind of . . . cool."

Snorting, John looked back out to the ocean. "Yeah . . . maybe it is." They sat in silence for a few minutes, just watching the waves roll in. "Dr. Keller must have gotten held up."

Rodney nodded. "Probably one of my incompetent minions destroying another completely innocent experiment. Why did you thank me? You did that earlier, back when you were just starting to get better."

It was several moments before John answered, unsure of how to explain what had happened to Rodney. "It was the last nightmare I had. You and I were in that little boat from your dream and . . . _he _was there too." He paused and chuckled as he remembered how the Rodney in his mind had acted very much like the Rodney sitting beside him. "Anyway, you kept . . . insulting me and arguing with me about everything . . . you know, like you tend to do, and he got mad."

Rodney frowned. "He got mad at . . . wait a minute, what do you mean I tend to argue? I'm not the one who argues. It's you that can't see reason or anything else that's right in front of you."

"You mean like that I'm better looking than you?"

"Oh, no, why would you say that? Hey, you said that earlier too. You don't really think that, do you?" Rodney asked, exasperation filling his voice.

"_This _is what we were doing and the entity . . . or the residue of the entity or whatever it was . . . it just went away. I think maybe you distracted me from the stuff he was telling me enough I could let some of it go. Anyway, he's gone." John looked up from where his hands were twisting the tie of his robe. "Anyway . . . thanks. I know you weren't really in my head, but . . . knowing you like I do . . . I guess . . . " He waved his hand around helplessly as he searched for words.

"I know what you mean," Rodney said with a small nod. "And you're welcome."

John stared down at his feet for a moment. "Guess that secret language comes in handy."

Laughing, Rodney crossed his arms and leaned back against the bench. "It does at that."

They turned at the sound of the door sliding open and Keller hurrying out with a wheelchair. "I'm so sorry, Colonel, we had a minor emergency hit the infirmary. It seems two chemists went into a lab and –"

"This sounds like the beginning of a bad joke," Rodney quipped.

Keller paused and seemed to be considering his words. "Huh, I guess it does." She shook her head as if clearing it and looked back down at them. "Anyway, there was a problem with an experiment and they received some minor burns."

"Told you," Rodney sing-songed as he got up off the bench and began helping John stand and get into the chair.

"I guess you know your minions pretty well," John said.

"Unfortunately," he muttered.

"Let's get you back to bed," said Keller as she turned the chair around. "I believe Teyla and Ronon have come with food trays for all, you included Dr. McKay."

"Really?" asked Rodney, his voice filled with surprise. "What did they bring?"

"Something good for once, I hope," said John. "I'm about tired of bland and soft and easily digested. There's only so much of that a person can stand." He stifled a yawn, hoping his two escorts hadn't noticed.

"I saw that, Sheppard," said Rodney. "After dinner, it's naptime for you."

Sighing loudly, John glanced over his shoulder at Rodney. "Wasn't it you that was just complaining I slept too much?"

"Be quiet. We're trying to look after your health," said Rodney as he looked at Keller. "Can you believe how uncooperative some patients are?"

"Uh, no, it's . . . amazing . . . I guess."

They arrived in the infirmary to find Ronon easing a tray of food down to the rolling table before taking another over to set in a chair. "Hey, Sheppard, we brought food."

John craned his neck to see the tray and then slumped down in the chair with a sigh. "Soup?" he asked at the sight of a bowl.

Ronon came over in case John needed help moving to the bed, but John waved him away. "Not soup, stew. And I made sure they didn't water yours down."

John stood up, faltered only slightly and then pulled himself up into the bed. As he leaned back against the pillows, his body sagged and a tired ache seemed to take over. He closed his eyes a few seconds, only to open them and find Teyla tucking the covers around him with a big smile. He grinned sheepishly at her. "Thanks, Teyla, I'm good."

Nodding, she rolled the table over his lap and John looked down at the bowl of stew, thick with meat and vegetables. His mouth began watering as the rich scent hit him and suddenly the lethargy of a minute ago was forgotten. "This looks really good," he said as he tore a chunk off the thick piece of bread on his tray. Keller almost beamed as he dug in.

"Slow down, Colonel, it isn't going anywhere," Rodney said as he grabbed his own tray and settled into a chair. "Hey, thanks for dinner, guys."

"It has been a while since we were able to eat a meal together," said Teyla. "We thought this would be a good opportunity."

"Oh, man, this is good," John said between mouthfuls. And it was good. His stomach rumbled, almost as if telling him to send down more. It was the most solid meal he'd had so far and he suddenly found himself famished, as if he wanted to make up for all the missed meals right this minute.

"Colonel, you really do need to slow down so you don't make yourself sick," said Keller. John slowed to see everyone staring at him and sheepishly swallowed the bite in his mouth.

"Uh, 'kay . . . sorry." He glanced down to see the bowl already half empty. He really had been hungry.

"It's all right, I know you're probably hungry," said Keller. "To be honest, I'm happy to see your appetite has improved this much. If you continue to eat like this, it won't take long to put some of that weight back on you. Well, I'll leave you and your team to eat. Let me know if you need anything."

The team ate in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's company and the fact that no one was on death's door at the moment. When John's spoon hit the bottom of the bowl, he was barely able to swallow the last bite. His mouth could have eaten another helping, but his stomach was protesting the amount already in it. Along with being full, came a major case of the sleepies. He found his eyelids beginning to droop, in spite of his efforts to keep them open. He wanted to listen to his team, to be with them.

He jerked his eyes open when movement startled him and Teyla winced as she moved the tray table away. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to wake you."

"S'kay . . . wuzn't sleepin'." John blinked several times as he fought his eyes back open.

A loud snort caught his attention and he found Rodney rolling his eyes. "Not sleeping. Right. Anyone who believes that raise their hand."

Teyla was back, placing her hand on his shoulder. "John, go to sleep if you are tired. We will be here for a while."

Yawning, John rubbed his face. "S'll I've done it sleep." He rubbed his face vigorously in an attempt to wake himself up.

Frowning, Teyla tilted her head a little. "John, are you worried about dreaming . . . about your other self coming back to taunt you? You cannot believe what he told you."

"I know," he said firmly. "Look, I know what he said wasn't . . . completely right. And he's gone. I haven't seen him in days . . . not since the dream with Rodney and the boat, which I still say was freaky. I just . . . I'm tired of sleeping all the time and not having any energy. I just wanted to hang out with you guys, you know? We haven't been able to do that."

"So, you missed us?" asked Teyla with a sly smile.

Sighing, John finally gave a short nod. "Okay . . . I missed you guys. There, I said it. Are you happy?"

Ronon chuckled as he bit off a huge piece of bread. "McKay's been calling you Sleeping Beauty."

Rodney's jaw dropped open and he sputtered for a moment. "I did not . . . well, okay, maybe I did, but it was a term of endearment . . . sort of. But you have to admit, the resemblance is uncanny. All we needed was a prince . . . or maybe a princess to wake him up."

"Gee, Rodney . . . thanks," mumbled John.

Turning back to John, Teyla placed her hand on John's arm. "Are you really all right?" she asked quietly. "I know you carry much guilt and that the entity fed off that guilt. I am also aware that the lingering part of him did much the same thing. None of this was your fault, John."

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, John brought his eyes up to meet Teyla's. This belonged in the talking about your feelings category and he not only wasn't any good at it, he definitely wasn't comfortable with it.

"John?"

He was going to have to say something. Teyla was beginning to look worried. "I'm . . . " No, he couldn't just say he was fine. He could tell she wasn't going to accept that. He glanced around and found Rodney arguing about something with Ronon. At least he wasn't the complete center of attention. He turned back to Teyla, still watching him closely.

"Teyla . . . I'm okay. You said you knew I carried around some guilt over some things . . . I probably always will. And I've added some from all this stuff with the crystal thing. But . . . at least on some level, I know I didn't do anything wrong, that there was no way of knowing what was going to happen. I know none of this was directly my fault . . . but I also know that if I hadn't touched that crystal . . . Kate would still be alive." He smiled at her, touching the side of her face with his finger.

"But I'm not going to do anything foolish or drive myself into depression or anything, okay? I'll carry some of it around with me always. But that's who I am and I haven't found a way to change that. I'm not completely sure I would if I could. Maybe carrying around that guilt is what gives me the drive to do some of things I have to do. Maybe that's what keeps me from becoming Kolya."

Squeezing his arm, Teyla smiled and nodded. "You could never be like Kolya. Who we are and what we are capable of is a complex thing. Perhaps you are right. The tendency to carry guilt within you is part of who you are and not something to be changed. As long as you can be at peace with yourself."

"Not sure being at peace is possible, but I can handle it."

"I think you should join me in meditation some time," she suggested.

Remembering his time in the cloister, John groaned and let his head fall back as he closed his eyes. He could hear Teyla laughing and he smiled, realizing he'd been had. Ronon laughed loudly nearby and he could hear Rodney scolding him for something. It had been a long time since things had felt this normal.

"Sleep, John," Teyla whispered in his ear. "Everyone is safe and we are keeping watch. Sleep."

And he did.

THE END


End file.
